


Mr Roderick Alleyn and Miss Agatha Troy warmly invite you to a wedding

by id_ten_it



Category: Inspector Alleyn Mysteries - Ngaio Marsh
Genre: F/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/id_ten_it/pseuds/id_ten_it
Summary: Five conversations at the wedding of Alleyn and Troy.Starring Nigel Bathgate, Fox, Lady Alleyn, and Katti, as themselves, and Alleyn and Troy as the happy couple.





	1. Nigel Bathgate lets the cat out of the bag

“I daresay you haven’t told her why you have such a delightful god child.” Nigel smirked, joining Alleyn in watching Troy and Angela cuddle the little bundle. “I told her you asked the most mature of your friends. She seemed to think it rather sweet.” Alleyn, long schooled to inscrutability, regarded Nigel with outward calm.  
“Oh. So you didn’t tell her – hullo darling.” Nigel broke off to kiss Angela’s forehead and chuck the wriggling bundle under its ruddy chin.  
“Didn’t tell who what?” Troy – a flushed and happy Troy – twined her arm with Alleyn’s and smiled up at him. “Nothing. Mr Bathgate was just saying farewell.”  
“I was not!” Nigel ejaculated hotly, “Your Mr Alleyn was trying to coerce me into keeping his filthy secret.”

Troy laughed, a joyful sound that made Alleyn melt inside, unable to take his eye off her. “I rather doubt that Mr Alleyn has any filthy secrets. Do you darling?”  
“Well, not from you, anyway” grinned Alleyn.

“Oh so you have heard all about his little pact then?” Nigel beamed, “how he allowed us to twist his arm because of some little favours yours truly happened to call in. Really he made the most frightful fool of himself over you. Still, it all seems to have turned out alright so I suppose I shouldn’t tease him too much.” Angela’s attempts at interruption successfully overridden, Nigel continued blithely, “you see Troy – may I call her Troy, Alleyn?”  
“You’d have to ask her that, Bathgate.” Alleyn’s face seemed to be undecided whether to frown reproachfully or break out into a laugh. “Mrs Alleyn?”  
Troy smiled at that “I’m not used to it yet” she admitted, “Troy is fine” but she glanced up at Rory all the same, heartened by his air of amusement.  
“Yes well you see Troy, your Alleyn is rather a sap and upon being called to defend his lady love from all the heathens of the press – his words, his very _hurtful_ words – we struck a deal which I, for one, intend to remind him of until such time as he does something worse. In short, I would keep your name out of the press if he would deign to be wise and godfatherly to the little Bathgates. There was nothing in the deal about keeping quiet, you know.” He added with a sly grin up at Alleyn.

“I know. I see now the error of my ways.” Alleyn rejoined, giving Troy the doting little smile that seemed to be lurking more and more around his lips these days. “You don’t mind do you? You know Nigel is rather like a fungus. He sort of grows on you. He’s not that bad really.” Angela’s delighted laugh set Nigel to glowering.  
“I don’t mind, Rory.” Troy smiled, leaning in to kiss him, “I suppose it’s rather splendid really. You didn’t even know we’d be here today, then.”  
“What’s that got to do with?” asked Alleyn a touch gruffly, “I wanted to spare the woman I loved from any discomfort. Whether or not she particularly cared to know about it.” Over the top of Troy’s dark head, his eyes fixed Nigel with a look. Nigel hastily swept his own wife and child off out of range of any more possible glowers.


	2. Br'er  Fox reveals too much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The image of Alleyn playing rugby, as a contrast to his usual impeccable dress, is too much for Troy.

“You should see him on the pitch, Ma’am. Vicious, though you wouldn’t think it to look at him” Troy looked up at her impeccably dressed husband – looking even more handsome than he had when she first saw him in her house, in his dinner suit – and admitted to herself that Fox was right. Alleyn didn’t look at all vicious, merely fastidious.  
“Fox” Alleyn murmured in his voice that was nearly as deep as Fox’s rumble, “don’t tell tales.”  
Fox looked stolidly at Alleyn, as though butter couldn’t melt in his mouth but ruined the effect by grinning at Troy.

Alleyn had been distracted by a gushing Great Aunt and as he assured her that yes, he had grown since she saw him last, Fox drew Troy away. “Plays for the Yard team now, but I understand he was quite the athlete at his University days” as always, Fox says ‘university’ with the sort of reverence others save for the holy of holy’s. Fox is, as Alleyn has always said, a snob. “Does he really?” Troy asked, delighted, “he’s never said that before.”  
“Well if you’ll pardon me, Mrs Alleyn, but he hasn’t been to many games since he had the good fortune to make your acquaintance” Fox says this with a certain grandeur and Troy nods seriously, “he has been rather busy lately. Is there a match coming up?”  
“Districts weekend is next month, Mrs Alleyn. We’ll be fielding our best team for that.” Fox glances over at Alleyn’s willowy length, which is bent politely to attend to the wavering voice of the Great Aunt, “I’m sure Mr Alleyn will be asked to attend if he’s back from his honeymoon.”

Alleyn, in a bright rugby jersey and smudged shorts, hair awry with mud and frustrated fingers, streaked with mud and flinging his weight about the pitch…Troy nods with absent-minded approval.

“We aren’t planning on being away too long. So long as he isn’t needed for training camps or whatever they’re called these days.”  
“Training camps it is, Mrs Alleyn, and we at the Yard don’t hold much stock in them if you’ll pardon me for saying so. As like as not half the team will be away working and those that are left will be the ones who only just made the cut if you follow me. There’ll be no training camp for Mr Alleyn to attend to. Just the registration on the Friday night.”  
“Well I wouldn’t like to start off married life by upsetting all of Scotland Yard!” Troy smiled, giving her approaching husband a reassuring look and hoping he didn’t get too upset over her and Fox talking without him. “You couldn’t upset anyone” Alleyn smiled, looking at her with the sort of besotted look she still wasn’t quite used to and rather hoped she never would be. “Congratulations again Sir, Mrs Alleyn” Fox rumbled, shaking Alleyn’s hand and giving Troy the most majestic bow she had received, “See you when you get back, Mr Alleyn.”  
“Poor Fox” Troy observed, as she let Rory take her arm, “you’ve given him a complex. He was telling me the nicest tales, all about you and rugby and things. You will play, won’t you?”  
“If you’d like, though I can’t think why you would.”


	3. Katti rescues Troy from The Worst Kind Of Critic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy is ambushed, but Katti rescues her.

“The transcendental use of colour encourages the focus from the brushwork onto the planes of the subject instead. Using the contrasting colours on the same textures allowed me – allowed us all – to challenge the rules society has forced us to sublimate. Really, Mrs Alleyn, the considered allusions to classical works was almost enough to make me despair of ever fully understanding such high art.”  
Troy looked around desperately. The accusations were falling thick and fast and she had no counter to them. “I’m so glad you feel that way” she murmured helplessly. Wasn’t her husband supposed to be there to protect her from such horrors?  
“Oh I _do_ ” gushed the mystery man, “it’s as though I am involved somehow, as though you have exposed the eternal id and are holding it up, as though to a…”  
“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt” said Katti, looking about as far from sorry as it was possible for her to look and still get the words out, “but Troy’s in-laws have come all the way from Fiji and were wondering if they could have a quick word before the car arrives. I’m sure you understand.” She added with a sweet smile that didn’t fool Troy in the least, “thank you so much. Too kind.” She planted her no-nonsense hand on Troy’s elbow and hurried her away.

“I’ve already talked with George” Troy murmured, hope breaking like dawn on distant hills, “do tell me you’re stealing me away, Katti.”  
“I most certainly am! The man looked like a complete drip and from the little I heard he sounded like one, too.” Katti was still walking them along briskly as she spoke, and succeeded in guiding them into a secluded nook, where she produced two glasses from apparently nowhere and urged Troy to drink. “It’s frightfully good champagne” she beamed, “I think I’m going to enjoy coming to visit people with such exalted tastes.”  
“Do you know the nicest thing about them?” Troy asked, sinking wearily against the small table which was their only furniture, “they aren’t pretentious at all. Rory never says things like ‘challenge the rules we have all sublimated’. The idea’s preposterous.”  
“Why would anyone say that?” Katti demanded, sipping champagne and leaning against the wall. It was the most comfortable she’d been all day.  
“I have no idea, but that drip did. Rory would just say something sheepish like ‘you know I don’t want to talk nonsense but I think it’s frightfully good.’ Then he’d pick out something he liked, and say something about a painting he’d seen overseas, and that would be that. Why can’t everyone be like him?”  
“If everyone were like him,” Katti pointed out reasonably, “you wouldn’t have decided to marry him and I wouldn’t be standing her dolled up in the sort of clothes I wouldn’t be seen dead in by anyone else, with my fingers quite free from paint and charcoal.”  
Troy laughed, finished her drink, and stood. “You are a good friend, Katti. I don’t deserve you.”


	4. Lady Alleyn teases her son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lady Helena Alleyn and her elder son have quite different senses of humour.

“Nice wedding” George murmured, shrewd eyes flitting around the crowd.   
“It is, isn’t it?” his mother smiled serenely, apparently not hearing any signs of judgement between the two brothers.   
“She seems nice.” He continued, “if a little…”  
“Determined?” Helena twinkled. “She’s nothing like your wife, George, that’s for certain.”   
“Yes, poor Rory will have his work cut out for him and no mistake. No doubt all his holidays will be taken up with rambling about the countryside looking for ‘scenes’ to daub.”  
“And what a lovely pastime that will be. Much nicer than being stuck in some stuffy office drinking port and talking nonsense.” George affected a shudder which ran through his solid frame like a small shock. “I hope that’s not what he’s doing now. That’s no sort of life.” The large man drank off his glass censoriously, looking quite fiercely over its rim, his lips a deep red from the wine.   
“Indeed not. I’m glad neither of my sons will ever be so dissipated.” His mother smiled, apparently serene but with eyes that still sparkled. “Another drink, George?” Her son nodded and she glided off, taking her younger sons elbow and turning him gently. “He’ll see you and wonder what the joke is!” she scolded him, her voice rich with amusement. “I do feel bad for teasing him.” She admitted.   
“You said that about father.” Rory reminded her, deftly replacing her drink and grinning cheekily at her, “but I don’t recall it stopping you.”  
“I don’t recall it stopping you, either. Rory you really are a terrible influence. I can’t keep drinking champagne at two in the afternoon.”   
“You know you can, dearest Mamma, so don’t pretend to be something you’re not. Besides, the dancing will start soon and once I’ve finished with my wife I’ll be looking for some new toes to tread on.” Helena laughed, shaking her head fondly at her favoured son, and making Troy look over from her safe nook with Katti. “She’s the best of the lot” Troy confided in her friend, “quite mad of course, but a nice sort of mad that makes you wish you were, too.” The girls answered Helena’s laugh with a grin of their own, wandering over the lawn to meet her.


	5. Troy and Alleyn leave the ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happy couple escape to an hotel to start their life together.

They’re enjoying an unexpected moment of time alone, before another relative or friend comes over. Troy has her arm in Alleyn’s, and is warmed by is hand covering hers. For days now she has been scrubbing at her poor hands and they’re very very clean and also very chapped and uncomfortable out of their gloves. This despite Rory’s protestation that he’s marrying an artist and she can keep her hands how she likes them. There’s a little flush around his high cheekbones as he said it that Troy has filed away for later. She feels like it might be important.

There’s lots of things they haven’t done yet, Alleyn being surprisingly traditional in some respects, and herself being more than a little chary, but it doesn’t hurt to have a few titbits like that up her sleeve for surprising him with one day. Or teasing him. He does look delightful when being teased. Troy is thinking of the last time she teased him, and his eyes crinkled at the corners while his lips disappeared almost completely before breaking over his satisfyingly even teeth as he chuckled. She’s so busy thinking of this, and his subsequently gentle acquiescence to her disinclination to stay for longer, that she nearly misses what he’s saying.

“I’m sorry cousin Marmaduke cornered you. It was lucky Katti was nearby.”  
“I didn’t know you’d noticed!”  
“Of course I noticed.” Rory looks a little hurt, “I married you for a reason.”  
Troy laughs, squeezing his hand, “and what was that?”  
Rory, leaning in, kisses her cheek and whispers, “I can’t take my eyes off you.” Troy knows it’s cheesy but she can’t find it in herself to laugh it off.

Sometime later, they’re truly alone. Troy has changed – for the third time that day – and opens the bedroom door. Rory looks a little nervous even though she knows he’s not doing this for the first time. He looks nervous even though he knows neither of them are doing this for the first time. “Feeling the pressure?” she teases, slipping in and perching on the bed like a piece of thistledown coming in to rest. Rory offers her a drink, and sits next to her while they sip companiably. “A little.” He admits, smiling his boyish smile, “after all, it’s not every night one gets to do something like this.”   
“Well, we are married now.” Troy points out, the brandy settling at the back of her throat and making her feel braver.   
“If you think that means I’m going to wake you up when I come in from a late night at the Yard and demand we do something, then you’re not as smart as I thought you were my girl.” Rory’s tone is teasing but there’s a flash of fear in the depths of his eyes that encourages Troy to put down her drink and put her cool fingers against his chest. “You know I don’t think that, Rory.”   
He breaks her gaze to put his own glass down, unfamiliar in the hotel room they’re hiding away in, then returns to her. His lip is hitched up under his top teeth and Troy realises with a flash of insight that he really is worried, that he’d rather sit here holding her hand against his thumping heart than make a wrong move. It would be too much to say her heart breaks at the thought, but it thumps hard inside her as she leans in to reassure him. “Truly I don’t.” she whispers, nudging him till his back thumps against the coverlet and his hands are catching her, his sheepish laughter warming her, till it’s just the two of them together and she doesn’t know which bits started as Rory and which bits started as Troy.


End file.
